


Prettiest Star

by EraserWaster



Series: Prettiest Star [1]
Category: MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EraserWaster/pseuds/EraserWaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an old series I might get back to, hopefully you'll enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old series I might get back to, hopefully you'll enjoy it!

He biked up the shaded lane just like he did every weekday. The sun was just coming up but gave off enough light to cast shadows from trees and mailboxes, making small pools of darkness on the edges of the road. Frank played with the pools, running over one shadow with the front wheel of his bike, then missing the next. Mornings were unbearably boring, only leading to an excruciatingly dull day of school ahead.

The school loomed ahead at the end of the lane; tall, tan, and full of twats Frank was itching to punch in the mouth. He rode up, chained his bike to the rack and unwillingly shuffled to his locker.

 

There were only four good parts of school; Mikey had two classes with him, Ray had one, and lunch was in the middle. The other five classes were simple hell. Frank slammed his tiny locker, jamming it, and trudged off to French.

French happened to be one of those five classes. And it also happened to be the beginning of his school day. Fantastic. He took his seat and pulled out his papers so he could act like he was listening. A boy was already sitting diagonal him when he had gotten in. That boy was the fourth good thing about school. He was an adorable black-haired boy Frank shared French and Geometry with. Of course the boy had no clue of his existence, but he at least gave a little bit of hope to two of those five classes that he had alone. That and gave him something to look at during the teacher’s lecture over proper nouns or proofs. He didn’t know his name; just that he was very quiet and drew about 99% of the time. He wore very dark and depressing clothes. A sweatshirt and dark jeans was common, sometimes a band t-shirt that never toured around that area or no-one had ever heard of in that school. He also knew that the boy was picked on for his antisocial-ness and dress, but so was Frank. The lecture was about something on action verbs in French but Frank didn’t pay any attention, just simply stared at the messy black hair a few seats away.

 

The other classes flew by and he was finally walking in to the cafeteria with Mikey over to the table where they usually sat. “Well they did show up” Ray commented, since he was early. “Wilberstein held us over,” Mikey mumbled as he began to unwrap a cold sandwich. Normally the table was full of chatter about recent concerts, new guitars, or arguments over which band was better, Smashing Pumpkins or Black Flag (and Ray would always comment that Metallica won over all of them and the conversation would switch to eighties’ rock). Ray and Mikey would argue over whether Anabelle Beacher was hotter than Megan Rhiner and Frank would roll his eyes. But today the table was filled with an awkward silence.

Ray looked up, “Mikey, what’s up man?” Mikey picked at the bread of his sandwich. “Just my dumb brother again. He’s slipping back.” Frank and Ray looked at each other. They all knew that “slipping back” was just code for “he’s depressed again”. “Sorry Mikey,” Frank looked over to Mikey, “really.” He had never met Mikey’s brother, who was two years older but had been held back one year, but he knew that the two were close. Well, as close as two teenage siblings could be anyway. They still fought, but they had been through a lot together. They were practically best friends. Mikey’s brother had been through depression once before. It was influential enough that it started to drag Mikey with him. It had hit Mikey hard. Who knew what would happen to the brothers this time.

 

The boy was in Frank’s next class, too, but sat directly behind him. He always felt self-conscious in this class, hoping to look cool or attractive or whatever when the back of his head was so visible, but he also figured the boy never really looked up from his drawings anyways, so what’s the use? The teacher droned on and Frank stared blankly at the board with a parted mouth, attempting to not drift off.

After what had felt like forever the bell finally rang and Frank lingered to pick up his things so he could casually “accidentally” sneak a look at the guy’s ass. He was a perverted teenager; it was at least better than fantasizing and drooling through his notes. Which he also did every once in a while, but that’s beside the point. He followed the boy out of the classroom silently but a flurry of papers had exploded before they made it through the door. The boy had tripped on something, or perhaps had been tripped, and his papers flew everywhere out in to the hall, and he scrambled to snatch them up. Frank stood awkwardly before registering what had happened, then dropped to the floor to help collect the papers.

Some of the papers were notes, scribbled in almost unreadable handwriting, but most were drawings. Brilliant, excellent drawings. Sketches of zombies and mummies and lots of vampires. They all were pen and pencil sketches with a few coloured in, and they all looked like comic book drawings. Frank couldn’t help but stare at them. They were gorgeous to a morbid teenage boy like him. “Thanks” the boy took the papers, accidentally making short eye contact. Frank couldn’t help but notice that he had gorgeous hazel eyes, tired from long nights awake. He gazed before slamming back in to reality, replying slowly, “yeah, no problem,” and walking off dazedly.

 

He couldn’t get the image of hazel eyes and vampire drawings out of his head by the time his next class came. He dumped his books on to a desk and slid in beside Mikey who was staring at a paper in front of him with a confused look on his face. The lesson started and Mikey slid a paper towards him.

“what up with you” he raised one eyebrow.

Frank scribbled back his notebook, “what do you mean?”

Mikey rolled his eyes, “ you look like you just got kissed by Megan Rhiner.”

Frank glared at him “you no I’m gay you dumass. “

Mikey smirked “what then? A guy?”

Frank snorted, “I wish” and left it at that.

 

Mikey and Ray were in his next class, but of course with his luck they both sat at on the other side of the room. They tried passing notes across to each other but the teacher found those quickly. They thought about signing, but none of them knew how to, and Frank couldn’t lip-read. So Frank sat alone watching Ray and Mikey pass notes and waited impatiently for class to end. He started doodling absent-mindedly while he ignored the two pass notes and the teacher draw something on the whiteboard. He stared by carving DIE with his pencil but switched to drawing hazel eyes. He looked at his sketch afterwards, criticizing his drawing skills, and then realized what he had drawn and scribbled it out. He attempted to mask his embarrassment and carried on scribbling randomly over the back of his notebook, but kept thinking of hazel eyes.

 

Ray and Mikey joined up with Frank after class was over. Frank shoved his scribbled-out eyes in to his locker, but not soon enough to escape Mikey, who swiped it up from his hand and danced out of reach. “Hey Frank, what’s this?” he held it up to the light. “Nothing!” Frank jumped to grab it from Mikey’s reach but fell short. “Looks like Frankie’s fancying someone!” Mikey laughed. “Mikey, I’ll kill you” Frank threatened half-seriously. He jumped again and missed Mikey’s grasp. “Alright, shorty, you can have it… If you tell me who.” Frank huffed, “I don’t know his name.” Mikey gave his shitty ‘surprised face’. “Not even his name? Come on now Iero, I can’t text him to fuck you if I don’t know who he is.” Frank turned a bright shade of light red. “Fuck you Mikey Way!” “No thanks shorty!” Mikey laughed back as he turned and ran for his life from Frank the Furious.

 

As soon as journaling class ended, Frank was unchaining his bike from the rack and pedaling away from the lot. He was a master at balancing his book-bag on his bike by now after having to do so for four years now. He made his way down the same lane and got half way to his house before almost crashing in to a stop-sign.

There was the boy. Walking down a street in his neighbourhood. He stopped abruptly to watch him turn a corner and shuffle down the next street. Was he going to Mikey’s house? Did he know Mikey? He watched the boy walk up the driveway to Mikey’s door and pull a key from under the welcome mat. The boy then promptly went in the house and closed the door behind him, vanishing from Frank’s sight. Either he was a good stalker, a murderer, or a really good friend of Mikey’s. Frank stared at the house a while longer. Should he tell Mikey? Should he ask the boy’s name? What now? He pondered everything as he wheeled slowly back home.


	2. Chapter Two

“Hey man.” He heard the front door open and close as Mikey’s voice drifted in from the entryway. Mikey threw his bag next to the fridge and started making his way around the kitchen.

“Hi.” Gerard continued scribbling his Geometry out at the counter.

“How’re you then?” Mikey didn’t sound authentically happy but it was easy to tell that he was trying for his brother’s sake.

Gerard shrugged his shoulders in reply.

“Don’t lie, I don’t like my big brother lying. Are you doing any better at least?”

Gerard stopped his Geometry to force a small smile and nod once.

“Good,” Mikey seemed content enough with that, “Good. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” And with that he bounded up the stairs t his room, leaving Gerard to his Geometry.


	3. Chapter Three

“Let’s please not” Mikey gave a death-glare to Frank who was nearly hopping with caffeine. “No, come on!” Frank tugged Mikey towards the ticket line, like a puppy on a short leash. “I don’t even like them.” Mikey decided that resistance was futile and gave in, trudging forward.

“I haven’t seen a concert in fucking forever, I NEED to hear some somewhat-decent music. Three tickets.” The girl behind the glass, about their age, hair pulled in a short ponytail and face dotted with acne, gave Frank the tickets and waved them off. “Thanks” Frank turned to Mikey, who was trying to look as bored as possible.

“This Friday will be better. I promise.” He gave a small smile to Mikey, who in turn grinned back.

“I hope you’re right, Iero.”

 

Mikey had been getting worse, which meant that his brother had been too. Frank tried cheering him up, laughing at cheerleaders and lending him his beloved Kerrang! magazines that he wouldn’t let his own family touch. Mikey appreciated it, but Frank could tell he was forcing each grin. Ray seemed to help Mikey a fair deal though, luckily.

 

On Friday, the place was packed with people. The crowd buzzed as they waited for the stage to come to life, so they drank and flirted around. It was hot even on the edges of the crowd, and the bar was packed an hour before the show even scheduled to start. Frank lead Mikey to a table nestled in a dark corner, as far away from the throng of people as possible.

“Ray said he’d come late,” Frank told Mikey as he slid a beer down the table to him, “but he said he would probably get here before the band started.”

Mikey nodded and took a sip of beer. “My brother is coming.”

Frank looked surprised. He was going to meet Mikey’s brother. The legend himself. This was a big deal!

“Really? Is he? I mean is he okay enough to..?” He sputtered to a stop to let Mikey answer “Yeah I guess he is.”

Frank grinned widely, “I finally get to meet Mikey’s Way’s infamous big brother!”

Ray joined up not too long afterwards, and once the band started Frank made his way to the pit. The crowd bobbed almost in unison, the ripples reflecting the bass that thrummed through the crowd. Frank hadn’t been to a concert like this in forever, it felt glorious to be back in the heat of the pit again. He went wildly along with the violent group.

Once he had sweated out his beer he made his way back to the table. Ray was talking animatedly to Mikey, but Frank’s attention first turned to the new member of the table. He seemed familiar… something about his hair perhaps? Or his eyes when he turned to look at Frank? He couldn’t put a finger on it, and it was impossible to see in this lighting anyways.

“Hey guys, did you miss me?” he panted, “You must be Mikey’s brother?” He slid in next to the new member. He grinned and got a half-grin in response.

“This is Gerard,” Mikey introduced his brother, “and Gerard, this is Frank.”

“Gerard,” Frank mused, “kind of an old-fashioned name.” He half-waved to Gerard. “Nice to meet you finally. You and Mikey seem to be pretty close by what I hear.”

“Yeah, nice meeting you too.” Gerard nodded slightly.

Frank couldn’t help but die a bit internally. God, this boy had a great voice! He immediately became self-conscious about being drenched in sweat and probably smelling up the entire table. Great first impression on a cute boy.

Frank started on his second beer.

Gerard gestured towards Frank’s beer, “How’d you get that?”

“Fake ID.” He slapped the fake ID on to the table-top and slid it down to Gerard.

“That and I used to date one of the bartender’s cousins. I’ve got a few friends around here.”

“Oh” Gerard said in an impressed tone.

“You want one?” Frank offered as Gerard handed the ID back.

“Yeah, sure.”

They both slid out of the booth and made their way to the bar, leaving Ray and Mikey to themselves.

“Huh.” Gerard over at Frank.

“What’s up?” Frank’s anxious mind immediately thought “Shit, he’s seen the sweat marks”.

“Sorry, but you’re shorter than I thought you were.

Frank laughed, “I’ve heard that before.”

 

Ray and Mikey had already disappeared before Gerard and Frank had returned to their table. Frank was itching to get back in the pit, but felt uneasy being in charge of Gerard. So they sat and drank while Frank eagerly watched the pit bob up and down.

Frank watched for a while until he built up courage. He spun around to face Gerard. “Gerard, we should go dance.”

Gerard’s expression became uncomfortable, as Frank had predicted, “Uh wh- I don’t dance.”

“I bet you could if you tried.” And with that he hopped up and tugged Gerard to the dance floor. Gerard reluctantly let Frank drag him.

They stood awkwardly on at the edge of the crowd, Gerard still holding his beer and looking frightened.  
But with a push, Frank moved Gerard and himself towards the center. Frank caught on to the feel of the song almost immediately; he jumped around with a huge grin, but didn’t stray too far from his babysitting job. Gerard caught on after a few songs and bobbed along with Frank. He shouted something to Frank.

“What?” Frank yelled back and moved a little closer.

“I said this is kinda cool!” Gerard smiled genuinely for the first time in ages. Frank’s heart stumbled, and he smiled back twice as large.

 

They continued dancing until neither of them could hardly breathe. They were both soaked in sweat, Gerard’s hair nearly dripping. He slicked his black hair back with his hand, running his fingers through the sweaty strands, and making Frank wish to do the same to him. He looked beautiful in the spotlights, his shimmering skin and flushed cheeks made him look alive. Frank licked his bottom lip. They made their way back to the table in the corner, where Ray and Mikey now were seated.

Frank swore he could see a tiny grin on Mikey’s face when the two of them came in to view.

“Hey Ray!” Frank sat across from Ray and Gerard slid in beside him, placing himself at an almost perfect distance from Gerard, but not too far to be awkward.

“Hey Frank, looks like you’ve met Gerard?” Ray nodded towards him.

“Yep,” Frank grinned at Gerard. Gerard smiled back.

Mikey huffed and shuffled out of the booth, “I need a drink.” An obvious excuse to get away from the sexual tension hanging above them all. Especially over Frank.

“Okay” Ray replied shortly, sounding as if he was stopping himself from saying “okay baby.” Gerard seemed to sense it too, he leaned across the table and in towards Ray and said in a low voice, “if you were flirting with my brother, I’m going to kill you.”

Ray blushed and threw his hands up “I wasn’t! I swear!”

Frank face-planted the table and cackled, Gerard snickered at his own joke. Frank hadn’t heard Gerard laugh yet, but through his own howling he could hear the small laugh… he tried to back down the thoughts of how gorgeous the laugh was.

Mikey returned after a short while with two beers, sliding one down to Ray, and Gerard could hardly stifle his snicker. Mikey flicked his head up and squinted at him. “What?”

“What, you got your boyfriend a beer but not your own brother?” Ray’s face turned pink.

“Gerard Arthur Way!” Mikey shouted at him.

“Mikey Fuckin’ Way!” Gerard cackled.

“I can’t believe you!” Mikey slammed his glass on the table and stormed off.

“Mikey…” Ray rushed after him.

“Is he always like this on dates?” Frank giggled.

“I wouldn’t know.” Gerard picked up the beer Mikey left and took a sip.

Frank looked up at him. “Y’know, Gerard, I like you.”

Frank startled himself. That was not supposed to slip out.

Gerard took the glass away from his mouth and set it down on the table, hiding his face by letting his hair swing down in front of it.

“Fuck, I mean er… like a friend, I mean-“ Frank babbled.

“No man, I ah… yeah I like you too.” Gerard bit his lower lip and looked over at Frank.

Frank sort of stared back.

“Erm… more non-friend-like though,” Gerard said, “more like, ah…”

“Wait, really?” Frank interrupted.

“Um… yeah.” Gerard blushed a little.

“Me too.”

Frank blushed too.

“Okay everyone, here’s a slow one before the band packs up.” A man was standing with a microphone at the stage.

"Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire…"

Gerard looked over at Frank. “How do you like David Bowie?”

Frank smiled back at him, “I love it.”

Gerard stood up from the table and held his hand out to Frank. “I barely know you, but a dance sir?” Frank laughed at him, “Well of course!” took his hand and was lead to the small pack of twirling couples on the dance floor.

 

Ray hunted down Mikey and talked to him enough to get him back to the table. Gerard and Frank returned to the two of them laughing at the table.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Ray giggled.

“Didn’t take you that long until you had your hands all over Frank, did it Gerard?” Mikey sneered mockingly.

Gerard rolled his eyes and Frank giggled.

“So when were you two, like, together or whatever?” Mikey put his chin on his hand.

Frank stuck his tongue out, “That’s it then, I’m not even going to ask for permission from you.”

Mikey groaned, “That’s just what I need, my best friend and my brother dating.”

 

It was around 2 when they all gave up and decided to head home.

“Wait, Gerard…” Frank rushed after him before he left the bar. Gerard swiveled around to meet him.

“Yeah?”

“I never got your number” Frank smiled up at him.

Gerard laughed, “That’s right,” and traded him phones.

“We should catch up some time.”

“Yeah, are you busy Wednesday?”

Mikey honked the car at the two of them. “C’mon Gerard!”

“No, text me and we can figure it out!” Frank called after him as he walked to the car. He thought he heard him say “okay” as Mikey drove off but he couldn’t be sure. He looked down at his phone, then up at the sky.

"… all because of what you are. The prettiest star."


	4. Chapter 4

Frank Iero woke up for school on Monday morning to a feeling of dread. Not the type of dreadful feeling where you realize that it’s 6:46 in the morning and that morning also happens to be a Monday, but the type of dreadful feeling that something, sometime today, is going to go terribly wrong.  
He rolled over and slammed his alarm clock into submission. Maybe the fact that he hadn’t gotten a single text or phone call from Gerard over the weekend was a part of that dreadful feeling. Maybe the fact that he was Mikey’s brother was the reason. Or maybe it was because he probably wouldn’t ever, ever see Gerard again unless he somehow got Mikey to bring him to his house. Frank groaned. This was just what he needed to start the day with: boy problems.

 

Frank walked into French with a canister of black coffee and his t-shirt riding up in the back. Today was one of those kinds of days. He took his seat diagonal messy-haired boy and attempted to pay attention to the board. He could hardly focus on keeping his eyelids open. He snuck a glance over at the boy. Today he was drawing a Tim Burton style drawing of a man. Frank couldn’t really make out exactly who the man was, but he thought he recognized him. The boy was drawing bottom to top, so Frank could see converse and baggy jeans. Time passed and he could see a leather jacket and a band t-shirt. Then lead to the neck and the chin, and eventually the rest of the face. Twenty three minutes into class the boy was detailing the hair with black pen when Frank glanced over again to realize.

Fuck.

The boy was drawing him.

The pen sketch on the paper resembled Frank almost exactly, Tim Burton style. Frank blinked and looked again. That was no mistake, that was him. He sunk into his chair. How would the kid know what he looked like if he never looked back to see him? There was no way he actually knew the boy. He glanced up at the boy again just in time to see the boy turn his face the slightest bit to take something from his backpack on the floor. He knew that cheek somewhere. That nose, that ear, that corner of his mouth.

The bell rang and Frank scrambled to pick up his things before the boy walked out of the classroom. He must recognize him from somewhere; he could feel it. Frank slung his bag over his shoulder and flew out of his desk, not seeing that the boy was coming from the opposite direction They clashed in a flurry of papers, re-creating the mess from the week before.

“Sorry, sorry-” Frank picked up the sketch of himself and handed it to the crouched figure in front of him. He glanced at the black boot in front of him. The same black boots that stumbled around a night club with him four days ago. He looked at the pale hand taking the even paler paper from him. The same hand he held as they danced to David Bowie at one o’clock in the morning.

He looked into the most dazzling pair of hazel eyes he had ever caught sight of and gasped, falling backwards onto his butt.

“Shit.” Gerard spat out then quickly got up, averting his gaze.

“Oh my God, Gerard?” Frank stared blankly up at him. Gerard turned on his heel and sped out of the classroom without even glancing at Frank.

“Gerard!” Frank scrambled up and ran after him, but by the time he hit the crowded hallway there was no sign of where Gerard went.

“Fuck.” Frank was kicking himself. This couldn’t be happening.

 

“Michael Way.” Frank glared at Mikey as he came into the lunch room with Ray.

“Yeah Frank?” They sat down.

“Your brother.”

Mikey gave a confused expression. “What about him?”

“He’s in my French class.” Frank’s face was serious.

“And?” Mikey didn’t get it. “What’s so bad about that? I thought you liked him?”

“He ran away from me today.” Frank looked down at his food.

“That’s just Gerard, he’s like that sometimes.” Ray offered, hoping to pick Frank up.

Frank didn’t look up.

“I’m sorry Frank, I don’t know what’s up with him.” Mikey’s eyes were honest. “I’ll see if I can get ahold of him.”

 

Frank didn’t see Gerard in Geometry, but that didn’t mean he left the front of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where it stops... I'll try to get back on it soon!


End file.
